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Chapter 11: Zest ↵ In this chapter I propose to

deal with what seems to me the most universal and

distinctive mark of happy men, namely zest. ↵

Perhaps the best way to understand what is meant

by zest will be to consider the different ways in

which men behave when they sit down to a meal.

There are those to whom a meal is merely a bore;

no matter how excellent the food may be, they

feel that it is uninteresting. They have had

excellent food before, probably at almost every

meal they have eaten. They have never known what

it was to go without a meal until hunger became a

raging passion, but have come to regard meals as

merely conventional occurrences, dictated by the

fashions of the society in which they live. Like

everything else, meals are tiresome, but it is no

use to make a fuss, because nothing else will be

less tiresome. Then there are the invalids who

eat from a sense of duty, because the doctor has

told them that it is necessary to take a little

nourishment in order to keep up their strength.

Then there are the epicures, who start hopefully,

but find that nothing has been quite so well

cooked as it ought to have been. Then there are

the gormandisers (gormandizers), who fall upon

their food with eager rapacity, eat too much, and

grow plethoric and stertorous. Finally there are

those who begin with a sound appetite, are glad

of their food, eat until they have had enough,

and then stop. ↵ Those who are set down before

the feast of life have similar attitudes towards

the good things which it offers. The happy man

corresponds to the last of our eaters. What

hunger is in relation to food, zest is in

relation to iife. The man who is bored with his

meals corresponds to the victim of Byronic

unhappiness. The invalid who eats from a sense of

duty corresponds to the ascetic, the gormandiser

to the voluptuary. The epicure corresponds to the

fastidious person who condemns half the pleasures

of life as unaesthetic. Oddly enough, all these

types, with the possible exception of the

gormandiser, feel contempt for the man of healthy

appetite and consider themselves his superior. It

seems to them vulgar to enjoy food because you

are hungry or to enjoy life because it offers a

variety of interesting spectacles and surprising

experiences. From the height of their

disillusionment they look down upon those whom

they despise as simple souls. For my part I have

no sympathy with this outlook. All disenchantment

is to me a malady, which, it is true, certain

circumstances may render inevitable, but which

none the less, when it occurs, is to be cured as

soon as possible, not to be regarded as a higher

form of wisdom. ↵ Suppose one man likes

strawberries and another does not; in what

respect is the latter superior? There is no

abstract and impersonal proof either that

strawberries are good or that they are not good.

To the man who likes them they are good; to the

man who dislikes them they are not. But the man

who likes them has a pleasure which the other

does not have; to that extent his life is more

enjoyable and he is better adapted to the world

in which both must live. What is true in this

trivial instance is equally true in more

important matters. The man who enjoys watching

football is to that extent superior to the man

who does not. The man who enjoys reading is still

more superior to the man who does not, since

opportunities for reading are more frequent than

opportunities for watching football. The more

things a man is interested in, the more

opportunities of happiness he has, and the less

he is at the mercy of fate, since if he loses one

thing he can fall back upon another. Life is too

short to be interested in everything, but it is

good to be interested in as many things as are

necessary to fill our days. We are all prone to

the malady of the introvert, who, with the

manifold spectacle of the world spread out before

him, turns away and gazes only upon the emptiness

within. But let us not imagine that there is

anything grand about the introvert's unhappiness.

↵ There were once upon a time two sausage

machines, exquisitely constructed for the purpose

of turning pig into the most delicious sausages.

One of these retained his zest for pig and

produced sausages innumerable; the other said:

'What is pig to me? My own works are far more

interesting and wonderful than any pig. He

refused pig and set to work to study his inside.

When bereft of its natural food, his inside

ceased to function, and the more he studied it,

the more empty and foolish it seemed to him to

be. All the exquisite apparatus by which the

delicious transformation had hitherto been made

stood still, and he was at a loss to guess what

it was capable of doing. This second sausage

machine was like the man who has lost his zest,

while the first was like the man who has retained

it. The mind is a strange machine which can

combine the materials offered to it in the most

astonishing ways, but without materials from the

external world it is powerless, and unlike the

sausage machine it must seize its materials for

itself, since events only become experiences

through the interest that we take in them: if

they do not interest us, we are making nothing of

them. The man, therefore, whose attention is

turned within finds nothing worthy of his notice,

whereas the man whose attention is turned outward

can find within, in those rare moments when he

examines his soul, the most varied and

interesting assortment of ingredients being

dissected and recombined into beautiful or

instructive patterns. ↵ The forms of zest are

innumerable. Sherlock Holmes, it may be

remembered, picked up a hat which he happened to

find lying in the street. After looking at it for

a moment he remarked that its owner had come down

in the world as the result of drink, and that his

wife was no longer so fond of him as she used to

be. Life could never be boring to a man to whom

casual objects offered such a wealth of interest.

Think of the different things that may be noticed

in the course of a country walk. One man may be

interested in the birds, another in the

vegetation, another in the, geology, yet another

in the agriculture, and so on. Any one of these

things is interesting if it interests you, and,

other things being equal, the man who is

interested in any one of them is a man better

adapted to the world than the man who is not

interested. ↵ How extraordinarily different,

again, are the attitudes of different people to

their fellow-men. One man, in the course of a

long train journey, will fail entirely to observe

any of his fellow travellers while another will

have summed them all up, analysed their

characters, made a shrewd guess at their

circumstances, and perhaps even ascertained the

most secret histories of several of them. People

differ just as much in what they feel towards

others as in what they ascertain about them. Some

men find almost everybody boring, others quickly

and easily develop a friendly feeling towards

those with whom they are brought in contact,

unless there is some definite reason for feeling

otherwise. Take again such a matter as travel:

some men will travel through many countries,

going always to the best hotels, eating exactly

the same food as they would eat at home, meeting

the same idle rich whom they would meet at home,

conversing on the same topics upon which they

converse at their own dinner-table. When they

return, their only feeling is one of relief at

having done with the boredom of expensive

locomotion. Other men, wherever they go, see what

is characteristic, make the acquaintance of

people who typify the locality, observe whatever

is of interest either historically or socially,

eat the food of the country, learn its manners

and its language, and come home with a new stock

of pleasant thoughts for winter evenings. ↵ In

all these different situations the man who has

the zest for life has the advantage over the man

who has none. Even unpleasant experiences have

their uses to him. I am glad to have smelt a

Chinese crowd and a Sicilian village, though I

cannot pretend that my pleasure was very great at

the moment. Adventurous men enjoy shipwrecks,

mutinies, earthquakes, conflagrations, and all

kinds of unpleasant experiences, provided they do

not go so far as to impair health. They say to

themselves in an earthquake, for example,'So

that is what an earthquake is like', and it gives

them pleasure to have their knowledge of the

world increased by this new item. It would not be

true to say that such men are not at the mercy of

fate, for if they should lose their health they

would be very likely to lose their zest at the

same time, though this is by no means certain. I

have known men die at the end of years of slow

torture, and yet retain their zest almost till

the last moment. Some forms of ill-health destroy

zest, others do not. I do not know whether the

biochemists are able as yet to distinguish

between these kinds. Perhaps when biochemistry

has made further advances we shall be able to

take tablets that will ensure our feeling an

interest in everything, but until that day comes

we are compelled to depend upon common-sense

observation of life to judge what are the causes

that enable some men to take an interest in

everything, while compelling others to take an

interest in nothing. ↵ Zest is sometimes

general, sometimes specialised. It may be very

specialised indeed. Readers of Borrow may

remember a character who occurs in Romany Rye. He

had lost his wife, to whom he was devoted, and

felt for a time that life had grown utterly

barren. But he became interested in Chinese

inscriptions on teapots and tea-chests, and by

the aid of a French Chinese grammar, after

learning French for the purpose, gradually

managed to decipher them, thereby acquiring a new

interest in life though he never used his Chinese

knowledge for other purposes. I have known men

who were entirely absorbed in the endeavour to

find out all about the Gnostic heresy, and other

men whose principal interest lay in collating the

manuscripts and early editions of Hobbes. It is

quite impossible to guess in advance what will

interest a man, but most men are capable of a

keen interest in something or other, and when

once such an interest has been aroused their life

becomes free from tedium. Very specialised

interests are, however, a less satisfactory

source of happiness than a general zest for life,

since they can hardly fill the whole of a man's

time, and there is always the danger that he may

come to know all there is to know about the

particular matter that has become his hobby. ↵

It will be remembered that among our different

types at the banquet we included the gormandiser,

whom we were not prepared to praise. The reader

may think that the man with zest whom we have

been praising does not differ in any definable

way from the gormandiser. The time has come when

we must try to make the distinction between the

two types more definite. ↵ The ancients, as

everyone knows, regarded moderation as one of the

essential virtues. Under the influence of

romanticism and the French Revolution this view

was abandoned by many, and overmastering passions

were admired, even if, like those of Byron's

heroes, they were of a destructive and

anti-sociai kind. The ancients, however, were

clearly in the right. In the good life there must

be a balance between different activities, and no

one of them must be carried so far as to make the

others impossible. The gormandiser sacrifices all

other pleasures to that of eating, and by so

doing diminishes the total happiness of his life.

Many other passions besides eating may be carried

to a like excess. The Empress Josephine was a

gormandiser in regard to clothes. At first

Napoleon used to pay her dressmaker's bills,

though with continually increasing protest. At

last he told her that she really must learn

moderation, and that in future he would only pay

her bills when the amount seemed reasonable. When

her next dressmaker's bill came in, she was for a

moment at her wits' end, but presently she

bethought herself of a scheme. She went to the

War Minister and demanded that he should pay her

bill out of the funds provided for the war. Since

he knew that she had the power to get him

dismissed, he did so, and the French lost Genoa

in consequence. So at least some books say,

though I am not prepared to vouch for the exact

truth of the story. For our purpose it is equally

apt whether true or an exaggeration, since it

serves to show how far the passion for clothes

may carry a woman who has the opportunity to

indulge it. Dipsomaniacs and nymphomaniacs are

obvious examples of the same kind of thing. The

principle in these matters is fairly obvious. All

our separate tastes and desires have to fit into

the general framework of life. If they are to be

a source of happiness they must be compatible

with health, with the affection of those whom we

love, and with the respect of the society in

which we live. Some passions can be indulged to

almost any extent without passing beyond these

limits, others cannot. The man, let us say, who

loves chess, if he happens to be a bachelor with

independent means, need not restrict his passion

in any degree, whereas if he has a wife and

children and no independent means, he will have

to restrict it very severely. The dipsomaniac and

the gormandiser, even if they have no social

ties, are unwise from a self-regarding point of

view, since their indulgence interferes with

health, and gives them hours of misery in return

for minutes of pleasure. Certain things form a

framework within which any separate passion must

live if it is not to become a source of misery.

Such things are health, the general possession of

one's faculties, a sufficient income to provide

for necessaries, and the most essential social

duties, such as those towards wife and children.

The man who sacrifices these things for chess is

essentially as bad as the dipsomaniac. The only

reason we do not condemn him so severely is that

he is much less common, and that only a man of

somewhat rare abilities is likely to be carried

away by absorption in so intellectual a game. The

Greek formula of moderation practically covers

these cases. ↵ The man who likes chess

sufficiently to look forward throughout his

working day to the game that he will play in the

evening is fortunate, but the man who gives up

work in order to play chess all day has lost the

virtue of moderation. It is recorded that

Tolstoy, in his younger and unregenerate days,

was awarded the military cross for valour in the

field, but when the time came for him to be

presented with it, he was so absorbed in a game

of chess that he decided not to go. We can hardly

find fault with Tolstoy on this account, since to

him it might well be a matter of indifference

whether he won military decorations or not, but

in a lesser man such an act would have been one

of folly. ↵ As a limitation upon the doctrine

that has just been set forth, it ought to be

admitted that some performances are considered so

essentially noble as to justify the sacrifice of

everything else on their behalf. The man who

loses his life in the defence of his country is

not blamed if thereby his wife and children are

left penniless. The man who is engaged in

experiments with a view to some great scientific

discovery or invention is not blamed afterwards

for the poverty that he has made his family

endure, provided that his efforts are crowned

with ultimate success. If, however, he never

succeeds in making the discovery or the invention

that he was attempting, public opinion condemns

him as a crank, which seems unfair, since no one

in such an enterprise can be sure of success in

advance. During the first millennium of the

Christian era a man who abandoned his family for

a saintly life was praised, though nowadays it

would be held that he ought to make some

provision for them. ↵ I think there is always

some deep seated psychological difference between

the gormandiser and the man of healthy appetite.

The man in whom one desire runs to excess at the

expense of all others is usually a man with some

deep seated trouble, who is seeking to escape

from a spectre. In the case of the dipsomaniac

this is obvious: men drink in order to forget. If

they had no spectres in their lives, they would

not find drunkenness more agreeable than

sobriety. As the legendary Chinaman said:'Me no

drinkee for drinkee, me drinkee for drunkee. This

is typical of all excessive and one-sided

passions. It is not pleasure in the object itself

that is sought, but oblivion. There is, however,

a very great difference according as oblivion is

sought in a sottish manner or by the exercise of

faculties in themselves desirable. Borrow's

friend who taught himself Chinese in order to be

able to endure the loss of his wife was seeking

oblivion, but he sought it in an activity that

had no harmful effects, but on the contrary

improved his intelligence and his knowledge.

Against such forms of escape there is nothing to

be said. It is otherwise with the man who seeks

oblivion in drinking or gambling or any other

form of unprofitable excitement. There are, it is

true, border-line cases. What should we say of

the man who runs mad risks in aëroplanes or on

mountain tops, because life has become irksome to

him? If his risks serve any public object, we may

admire him, but it not, we shall have to place

him only slightly above the gambler and drunkard.

↵ Genuine zest, not the sort that is really a

search for oblivion, is part of the natural

make-up of human beings except in so far as it

has been destroyed by unfortunate circumstances.

Young children are interested in everything that

they see and hear; the world is full of surprises

to them, and they are perpetually engaged with

ardour in the pursuit of knowledge, not, of

course, of scholastic knowledge, but of the sort

that consists in acquiring familiarity with the

objects that attract their attention. Animals,

even when adult, retain their zest provided they

are in health. A cat in an unfamiliar room will

not sit down until it has sniffed at every corner

on the off-chance that there may be a smell of

mouse somewhere. The man who has never been

fundamentally thwarted will retain his natural

interest in the external world, and so long as he

retains it he will find life pleasant unless his

liberty is unduly curtailed. Loss of zest in

civilised society is very largely due to the

restrictions upon liberty which are essential to

our way of life. The savage hunts when he is

hungry, and in so doing is obeying a direct

impulse. The man who goes to his work every

morning at a certain hour is actuated

fundamentally by the same impulse, namely the

need to secure a living, but in his case the

impulse does not operate directly and at the

moment when it is felt: it operates indirectly

through abstractions, beliefs and volitions. At

the moment when the man starts off to his work he

is not feeling hungry, since he has just had his

breakfast. He merely knows that hunger will

recur, and that going to his work is a means of

satisfying future hunger. Impulses are irregular,

whereas habits, in a civilised society, have to

be regular. Among savages, even collective

enterprises, in so far as they exist, are

spontaneous and impulsive. When the tribe is

going to war the tom-tom' rouses military ardour,

and herd excitement inspires each individual to

the necessary activity. Modern enterprises cannot

be managed in this way. When a train has to be

started at a given moment it is impossible to

inspire the porters, the engine driver, and the

signalman by means of barbaric music. They must

each do their job merely because it has to be

done; their motive, that is to say, is indirect:

they have no impulse towards the activity, but

only towards the ultimate reward of the activity.

A great deal of social life has the same defect.

People converse with each other, not from any

wish to do so, but because of some ultimate

benefit that they hope to derive from

cooperation. At every moment of life the

civilised man is hedged about by restrictions of

impulse: if he happens to feel cheerful he must

not sing or dance in the street, while if he

happens to feel sad he must not sit on the

pavement and weep, for fear of obstructing

pedestrian traffic. In youth his liberty is

restricted at school, in adult life it is

restricted throughout his working hours. All this

makes zest more difficult to retain, for the

continual restraint tends to produce weariness

and boredom. Nevertheless, a civilised society is

impossible without a very considerable degree of

restraint upon spontaneous impulse, since

spontaneous impulse will only produce the

simplest forms of social cooperation, not those

highly complex forms which modern economic

organisation demands. In order to rise above

these obstacles to zest a man needs health and

superabundant energy, or else, if he has that

good fortune, work that he finds interesting on

its own account. Health, so far as statistics can

show, has been steadily improving in all

civilised countries during the last hundred

years, but energy is more difficult to measure,

and I am doubtful whether physical vigour in

moments of health is as great as it was formerly.

The problem here is to a great extent a social

problem, and as such I do not propose to discuss

it in the present volume. The problem has,

however, a personal and psychological aspect

which we have already discussed in connection

with fatigue. Some men retain their zest in spite

of the handicaps of civilised life, and many men

could do so if they were free from the inner

psychological conflicts upon which a great part

of their energy is expended. Zest demands energy

more than that sufficient for the necessary work,

and this in turn demands the smooth working of

the psychological machine. Of the causes

promoting the smooth working I shall have more to

say in later chapters. ↵ In women, less nowadays

than formerly, but still to a very large extent,

zest has been greatly diminished by a mistaken

conception of respectability. It was thought

undesirable that women should take an obvious

interest in men, or that they should display too

much vivacity in public. In learning not to be

interested in men they learned very frequently to

be interested in nothing, or at any rate in

nothing except a certain kind of correct

behaviour. To teach an attitude of inactivity and

withdrawal towards life is clearly to teach

something very inimical to zest, and to encourage

a certain kind of absorption in self which is

characteristic of highly respectable women,

especially when they are uneducated. They do not

have the interest in sport that average men have,

they care nothing about politics, towards men

their attitude is one of prim aloofness, towards

women their attitude is one of veiled hostility

based upon the conviction that other women are

less respectable than they are themselves. They

boast that they keep themselves to themselves;

that is to say, their lack of interest in their

fellow creatures appears to them in the light of

a virtue. For this, of course, they are not to

blame; they are only accepting the moral teaching

that has been current for thousands of years

where women are concerned. They are, however,

victims, much to be pitied, of a system of

repression whose iniquity they have failed to

perceive. To such women all that is ungenerous

appears good and all that is generous appears

evil. In their own social circle they do what

they can to kill joy, in politics they love

repressive legislation. Fortunately the type is

growing less common, but it is still far more

prevalent than is supposed by those who live in

emancipated circles. I recommend anyone who

doubts this statement to go the round of a number

of lodging-houses seeking a lodging, and to take

note of the landladies that he will meet during

his search. He will find that they are living by

a conception of female excellence which involves

as an essential part the destruction of all zest

for life, and that their minds and hearts are

dwarfed and stunted as a result. Between male and

female excellence rightly conceived there is no

difference, or at any rate no difference such as

tradition inculcates. For women as for men zest

is the secret of happiness and well-being. ↵


知识点

重点词汇
familiarity [fəˌmɪliˈærəti] n. 熟悉,精通;亲密;随便 {gre :8057}

exquisite [ɪkˈskwɪzɪt] n. 服饰过于讲究的男子 adj. 精致的;细腻的;优美的,高雅的;异常的;剧烈的 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :8096}

thwarted [θwɔ:tid] v. 挫败(thwart的过去分词);反对 adj. 挫败的 { :8327}

unduly [ˌʌnˈdju:li] adv. 过度地;不适当地;不正当地 { :8416}

adventurous [ədˈventʃərəs] adj. 爱冒险的;大胆的;充满危险的 {toefl :8490}

powerless [ˈpaʊələs] adj. 无力的;[劳经] 无能力的,无权的 { :8511}

curtailed [kə:ˈteild] v. 简略;缩减;剥夺 { :8521}

outward [ˈaʊtwəd] adj. 向外的;外面的;公开的;外服的;肉体的 adv. 向外(等于outwards);在外;显而易见地 n. 外表;外面;物质世界 {gk cet4 cet6 ky toefl :8599}

shrewd [ʃru:d] n. 精明(的人);机灵(的人) adj. 精明的;狡猾的;机灵的 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :8648}

crank [kræŋk] n. 曲柄;奇想 n. (Crank)人名;(英)克兰克 adj. 易怒的 vt. 装曲柄 {cet6 :8650}

assortment [əˈsɔ:tmənt] n. 分类;混合物 {toefl :8790}

impersonal [ɪmˈpɜ:sənl] n. 非人称动词;不具人格的事物 adj. 客观的;非个人的;没有人情味的;非人称的 {toefl :8797}

barren [ˈbærən] n. 荒地 adj. 贫瘠的;不生育的;无益的;沉闷无趣的;空洞的 n. (Barren)人名;(西、英)巴伦 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :8809}

civilised ['sɪvəlaɪzd] adj. 文明的 { :8881}

banquet [ˈbæŋkwɪt] n. 宴会,盛宴;宴请,款待 vt. 宴请,设宴款待 vi. 参加宴会 n. (Banquet)人名;(法)邦凯;(西)班克特 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :9056}

stunted [ˈstʌntɪd] adj. 发育不良的;成长受妨碍的;长得矮小的 v. 阻碍…发展(stunt的过去式及过去分词形式) { :9106}

emptiness [ˈemptinəs] n. 空虚;无知 { :9389}

obstructing [əbˈstrʌktɪŋ] v. 妨碍(obstruct的ing形式);阻塞 { :9467}

exaggeration [ɪgˌzædʒəˈreɪʃn] n. 夸张;夸大之词;夸张的手法 {toefl gre :9504}

unwise [ˌʌnˈwaɪz] adj. 不明智的;愚蠢的;轻率的 { :9528}

agreeable [əˈgri:əbl] adj. 令人愉快的;适合的;和蔼可亲的 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :9587}

recur [rɪˈkɜ:(r)] vi. 复发;重现;采用;再来;循环;递归 {cet6 ky toefl :9676}

vulgar [ˈvʌlgə(r)] n. 平民,百姓 adj. 粗俗的;通俗的;本土的 {cet6 ky toefl ielts gre :9913}

zest [zest] n. 风味;热心;强烈的兴趣 vt. 给…调味 {toefl ielts gre :10079}

rouses [rauziz] v. 醒来,唤醒( rouse的第三人称单数 ); 使…活跃起来[产生兴趣] { :10108}

decipher [dɪˈsaɪfə(r)] n. 密电译文 vt. 解释(过去式deciphered,过去分词deciphered,现在分词deciphering,第三人称单数deciphers,名词decipherer,形容词decipherable);译解 {ielts gre :10186}

landladies [ˈlændˌleɪdi:z] n. 女房东,女店主,女地主( landlady的名词复数 ) { :10202}

gambler ['ɡæmblə(r)] n. 赌徒;投机商人 { :10215}

expended [iksˈpendid] v. 花费;耗尽(expend的过去分词) adj. 花费的;支出的;开支的 { :10629}

moderation [ˌmɒdəˈreɪʃn] n. 适度;节制;温和;缓和 { :10954}

innumerable [ɪˈnju:mərəbl] adj. 无数的,数不清的 {cet6 ky toefl ielts :11097}

spectre ['spektə(r)] n. 幽灵;妖怪;鬼性(等于specter) { :11195}

spectres [ˈspektəz] n. 鬼怪( spectre的名词复数 ); 幽灵; 缠绕心头的恐惧; 凶兆 { :11195}

indulgence [ɪnˈdʌldʒəns] n. 嗜好;放纵;纵容;沉溺 { :11258}

repressive [rɪˈpresɪv] adj. 镇压的;压抑的;抑制的 {ky :11423}

respectability [rɪˌspektəˈbɪləti] n. 体面;可尊敬;有社会地位 { :11454}

conversing [kənˈvə:sɪŋ] 谈话 { :11468}

converse [kənˈvɜ:s] n. 逆行,逆向;倒;相反的事物 adj. 相反的,逆向的;颠倒的 vi. 交谈,谈话;认识 n. (Converse)人名;(英)康弗斯 n. 匡威(服装品牌) {cet6 toefl gre :11468}

unhappiness [ʌn'hæpɪnəs] n. 苦恼;忧愁 { :11535}

instructive [ɪnˈstrʌktɪv] adj. 有益的;教育性的 {toefl gre :11647}

oblivion [əˈblɪviən] n. 遗忘;湮没;赦免 {toefl :11679}

dissected [dɪ'sektɪd] adj. 切开的,分开的;多裂的 v. 解剖;仔细检查(dissect的过去分词) { :11844}

scholastic [skəˈlæstɪk] adj. 学校的;学者的;学术的(等于scholastical) n. 学者;学生;墨守成规者;经院哲学家 { :11944}

typify [ˈtɪpɪfaɪ] vt. 代表;作为…的典型;具有…的特点 {toefl :12031}

eaters [ˈi:təz] n. 吃…的人( eater的名词复数 ) { :12208}

teapots ['ti:pɒts] n. 茶壶( teapot的名词复数 ) { :12436}

heresy [ˈherəsi] n. 异端;异端邪说;异教 {toefl gre :12456}

rye [raɪ] n. 黑麦;吉卜赛绅士 adj. 用黑麦制成的 n. (Rye)人名;(英)赖伊 { :13058}

empress [ˈemprəs] n. 皇后;女皇 { :13068}

perpetually [pə'petʃʊəlɪ] adv. 永恒地,持久地 { :13089}

impulsive [ɪmˈpʌlsɪv] adj. 冲动的;受感情驱使的;任性的 {toefl gre :13349}

tiresome [ˈtaɪəsəm] adj. 烦人的,无聊的;令人讨厌的 {cet6 ky :13772}

collating [kə'leɪtɪŋ] n. 整理 v. 校对;对照(collate的ing形式) { :14093}

disillusionment [ˌdɪsɪˈlu:ʒnmənt] n. 幻灭;醒悟 { :14166}

nourishment [ˈnʌrɪʃmənt] n. 食物;营养品;滋养品 {cet6 toefl ielts :14274}

inactivity [ˌɪnæk'tɪvətɪ] n. 静止;不活泼;休止状态;不放射性 { :14375}

barbaric [bɑ:ˈbærɪk] adj. 野蛮的,粗野的;原始的 { :14389}

exquisitely [ekˈskwɪzɪtlɪ] adv. 精致地;精巧地;敏锐地 { :14571}

mutinies [ˈmju:tni:z] n. 叛乱,兵变,哗变( mutiny的名词复数 ) v. 违抗上级命令,叛变,反叛( mutiny的第三人称单数 ); (尤指士兵或船员)不服从,反抗,反叛 { :14607}

bereft [bɪˈreft] adj. 丧失的;被剥夺的;失去亲人的 v. 失去…的(bereave的过去式) {gre :14655}

drunkenness [ˈdrʌŋkənnɪs] n. 醉态;酒醉 { :14846}

unprofitable [ʌnˈprɒfɪtəbl] adj. 无益的,没有用的;没有利润的 { :14884}

romanticism [rəʊˈmæntɪsɪzəm] n. 浪漫主义;浪漫精神 { :15087}

sherlock [ˈʃə:lɔk] n. 私家侦探 n. (Sherlock)人名;(英)舍洛克 { :15217}

josephine [ˈdʒəuzifi:n] n. 约瑟芬(女子名) { :15386}

malady [ˈmælədi] n. 弊病;疾病;腐败 n. (Malady)人名;(英)马拉迪 {toefl :15568}

uneducated [ʌnˈedʒukeɪtɪd] adj. 无知的;未受教育的 v. 未受教育(uneducate的过去分词) { :15694}

weariness ['wɪərɪnəs] n. 疲倦,疲劳;厌倦 {toefl :16129}

biochemistry [ˌbaɪəʊˈkemɪstri] n. 生物化学 生物化学过程 {gk toefl :16248}

Genoa ['dʒenәuә] n. 热那亚(意大利西北部港市) { :16495}

sobriety [səˈbraɪəti] n. 清醒,冷静;节制;严肃 {gre :16615}

Tolstoy ['tɔlstɔi] n. 托尔斯泰(俄国小说家) { :16891}

shipwrecks [ˈʃɪpˌreks] n. 海难,船只失事( shipwreck的名词复数 ); 沉船 { :17434}


难点词汇
hobbes [hɔbz] n. 霍布斯(姓氏,特指英国哲学家托马斯·霍布斯) { :17856}

vouch [vaʊtʃ] vi. 保证;证明;确定 vt. 担保;证明;传出庭作证 {gre :18007}

ascetic [əˈsetɪk] n. 苦行者;禁欲者 adj. 苦行的;禁欲主义的 {toefl gre :18114}

uninteresting [ʌnˈɪntrəstɪŋ] adj. 无趣味的,乏味的;令人厌倦的 { :18414}

inculcates [ɪnˈkʌlˌkeɪts] v. 极力主张,反复灌输( inculcate的第三人称单数 ) { :18562}

penniless [ˈpeniləs] adj. 身无分文的;贫穷的 { :18686}

fastidious [fæˈstɪdiəs] adj. 挑剔的;苛求的,难取悦的;(微生物等)需要复杂营养地 {ielts gre :18749}

tedium [ˈti:diəm] n. 沉闷;单调乏味;厌烦 {toefl gre :18839}

disenchantment [ˌdɪsɪn'tʃɑ:ntmənt] n. 醒悟,清醒;不抱幻想 { :18945}

iniquity [ɪˈnɪkwəti] n. 邪恶;不公正 {gre :19097}

sicilian [si'siljәn, -liәn] n. 西西里岛人 adj. 西西里岛的 { :19176}

conflagrations [kɒnfləɡ'reɪʃnz] n. 大火(灾)( conflagration的名词复数 ) { :19480}

prim [prɪm] adj. 拘谨的;整洁的;呆板的 vt. 使显得一本正经;把…打扮得整整齐齐 vi. 显得一本正经 n. (Prim)人名;(法、德、匈、捷、瑞典、西、葡)普里姆 {gre :19588}

manifold [ˈmænɪfəʊld] vt. 复写,复印;增多;使……多样化 adj. 多方面的,有许多部分的;各式各样的 n. 多种;复印本 n. (Manifold)人名;(英)马尼福尔德 {toefl ielts gre :19661}

inimical [ɪˈnɪmɪkl] adj. 敌意的;有害的 {gre :19665}

saintly [ˈseɪntli] adj. 圣洁的 {gre :19683}

volitions [ ] (volition 的复数) n. 行使意志, 意志力, 决定 { :19937}

irksome [ˈɜ:ksəm] adj. 令人厌烦的,讨厌的;令人厌恶的 {gre :20102}

definable [diˈfɑinəbl] adj. 可下定义的;可确定的;可限定的 { :20819}

valour [ˈvælə(r)] n. 勇猛 n. (Valour)人名;(法)瓦卢尔 { :20905}

ardour [ˈɑ:də] n. 激情;热情;情欲;灼热 { :20938}

drunkard [ˈdrʌŋkəd] n. 酒鬼,醉汉 { :21447}

aloofness [ə'lu:fnəs] n. 冷漠;高傲;超然离群 { :22695}

locomotion [ˌləʊkəˈməʊʃn] n. 运动;移动;旅行 {toefl gre :22712}

biochemists [ˈbaɪəʊˈkemɪsts] n. 生物化学家( biochemist的名词复数 ) { :22720}

emancipated [iˈmænsipeitid] adj. 被解放的 v. 解放;使…获得自由(emancipate的过去分词) { :23235}

signalman [ˈsɪgnəlmən] n. 信号员;信号手 { :25214}

introvert [ˈɪntrəvɜ:t] n. 内向的人;内翻的东西 vi. 成为内弯;成为性格内向的人 vt. 使内向;使内倾;使内弯 { :26529}

recombined [ri:kəm'baɪnd] v. 再结合,重组( recombine的过去式和过去分词 ) { :26693}

Chinaman ['tʃainәmәn] n. 中国佬 { :27678}

gnostic ['nɔstik] n. 诺斯替教徒 adj. 诺斯替教派的;诺斯替派教徒的 { :28239}

actuated [ˈæktʃu:ˌeɪtid] adj. 开动的;动作的 v. 驱动;激励(actuate的过去分词形式);使运转 { :29241}

vivacity [vɪ'væsətɪ] n. 活泼;快活;精神充沛 {toefl :32504}

ungenerous ['ʌn'dʒenərəs] adj. 胸襟狭窄的;吝啬的;不充足的 { :32889}

rapacity [rə'pæsətɪ] n. 贪婪;掠夺 { :37745}

nymphomaniacs [,nimfəu'meiniæk] n. 女色情狂;花痴 a. 女子淫狂的 { :38122}

Romany ['rɔmәni] n. 吉普赛语;吉普赛人 adj. 吉普赛人的;吉普赛语的;吉普赛人之风俗习惯的 { :38340}

unregenerate [ˌʌnrɪˈdʒenərət] adj. 不悔改的;灵魂未得再生的;顽固不化的 {gre :39309}

Byronic [baiˈrɔnik] adj. 冷笑而浪漫的;拜伦的,拜伦风格的 { :39420}

epicure [ˈepɪkjʊə(r)] n. 老饕;美食家;享乐主义者 {gre :43349}

epicures [ˈepɪˌkjʊəz] n. 讲究饮食的人( epicure的名词复数 ) { :43349}


生僻词
bethought ['bɪθɔ:t] v. 考虑( bethink的过去式和过去分词 ); 开始想; (被)想起; 提醒

border-line [ ] 边界线;图廓线

common-sense [ ] adj. 常识的; 有生活经验得来的

dinner-table [ ] 餐桌

dipsomaniac [ˌdɪpsəˈmeɪniæk] n. 耽酒症患者

dipsomaniacs [ ] (dipsomaniac 的复数) n. 嗜酒症患者

fellow-men [ ] (fellow-man 的复数) n. 人;同胞

gormandizers [ ] n. 贪吃的人 [网络] 老饕;讲究饮食的人;狼吞虎咽的人

iife [ ] [网络] 生命;立即执行函数(Immediately-Invoked Function Expression);王明

ill-health ['ɪlh'elθ] [医] 健康不佳,不适

lodging-houses [ ] (lodging-house 的复数) 宿舍;公寓

make-up [meɪk ʌp] n. 化妆品;(美)补考;性格;构造;排版

off-chance ['ɔ:ftʃ'ɑ:ns] n. 极小的,极罕见的机会

one-sided [ˌwʌnˈsaidid] adj. 片面的,单方面的;不公正的

overmastering [ˌəuvəˈmɑ:stəriŋ] adj. <正>压倒,征服 v. 压倒,征服,制服( overmaster的现在分词 )

plethoric [ple'θɒ:rik] a. 过多的, 夸大的, 多血症的 [医] 多血的

self-regarding [ˌselfriˈɡɑ:diŋ] adj. 利己主义的

sottish ['sɒtiʃ] a. 酗酒的, 酒徒的, 糊涂的, 粗鲁的 [法] 饮酒过多而糊涂的, 滥喝酒的, 酒徒的

stertorous ['stɜ:tərəs] adj. 打鼾的

superabundant [ˌsju:pərəˈbʌndənt] adj. 过多的;大量的

tea-chests [ ] (tea-chest 的复数) 茶叶箱

unaesthetic ['ʌnes'θetɪk] adj. 无美感的,缺乏美感的

voluptuary [vəˈlʌptʃuəri] n. 酒色之徒;纵情享乐的人 adj. 耽于酒色的

well-being [wel 'bi:ɪŋ] n. 幸福;康乐 {toefl :0}


词组
a crank [ ] [网络] 摇把;一个摇把;一摇柄

a lesser man [ ] [网络] 不太正直的人;不正直的人;不正值得人

absorb in [ ] un. 专心于 [网络] 全神贯注于;吸引

adapt to [əˈdæpt tu:] na. 使(自己行动)配合(同伴) [网络] 适应;适应,适合;使适应

at the mercy [ ] [网络] 无能为力

at the mercy of [æt ðə ˈmə:si ɔv] na. 完全受…支配 [网络] 在…支配下;完全受...支配;任由…摆布

bereave of [ ] v. 使丧失

Chinese grammar [ ] [语] 汉语语法

converse with [ ] 与…谈话

correspond to [ˌkɔrisˈpɔnd tu:] v. 符合 [网络] 相当于;相应;对应

delicious sausage [ ] 美味香肠

diminish by [ ] 由于…而减少

distinctive mark [ ] un. 区别标记;特殊标志 [网络] 甄别符号;独特商标;具有独特性质的商标

endeavour to [inˈdevə tu:] [网络] 争取;努力;例句

familiarity with [ ] [网络] 与…熟悉

feel contempt for [ ] na. 对…发生轻蔑心理 [网络] 瞧不起

fellow traveller [ˈfeləu ˈtræv(ə)lə] na. 旅伴;(政治上的)同路人 [网络] 属类

fond of [fɔnd ɔv] un. 爱好 [网络] 喜欢;对…的喜爱;情有独钟

harmful effect [ ] un. 有害影响 [网络] 有害效应;不良影响;害处

hedge about [ ] 限制, 束缚

idle rich [ ] 游手好闲的富人

in spite [ ] na. 为泄愤 [网络] 工人们还是很早就出发了;恶意地;尽管

in the pursuit of [ ] [网络] 追求;奉行

interfere with [ˌɪntəˈfiə wið] 干扰,干涉;妨碍;触动或弄坏;乱动;与……抵触

made a fuss [ ] 大惊小怪,小题大做;吵吵闹闹

made the acquaintance of [ ] vt. 和…相识,结识

make a fuss [meik ə fʌs] na. 小题大做 [网络] 大惊小怪;大声吵闹;无事自扰

make the acquaintance of [mek ði əˈkwentəns ʌv] [网络] 结识;和……相识;认识

military decoration [ ] [网络] 勋章

more frequent [ ] [网络] 高频率

obstacle to [ ] [网络] 纪念碑;障碍;的障碍

oddly enough [ ] na. “curiously enough”的变体 [网络] 说也奇怪;说来也奇怪;说来奇怪

on the contrary [ɔn ðə ˈkɔntrəri] na. 反之 [网络] 正相反;相反地;相反的

pedestrian traffic [piˈdestriən ˈtræfik] [网络] 过往行人;行人交通;行人往来

play chess [ ] na. 下象棋 [网络] 下棋;下国际象棋;着棋

prone to [prəun tu:] v. 易于 [网络] 倾向于;易于…的;倾于

Romany rye [ ] 与吉卜赛人保持密切关系者; 与吉卜赛人交往并讲吉卜赛语的人

run to excess [ ] 走极端

sausage machine [ˈsɔsidʒ məˈʃi:n] na. 做香肠用的绞肉机 [网络] 香肠机;绞肉器

Sherlock Holmes [ ] na. 夏洛克福尔摩斯 [网络] 大侦探福尔摩斯;神探福尔摩斯;夏洛克·福尔摩斯

sniff at [snif æt] v. 嗤之以鼻 [网络] 对…嗤之以鼻;用鼻吸;轻蔑地批评

sufficiently to [ ] adv.到足以,要已足够...了

superior to [sjuˈpiəriə tu:] adj. 胜过;优于 [网络] 比…好;级别高于;比…高级

sympathy with [ ] [网络] 对……的赞同;对…同情;对……的同情

the feast [ ] [网络] 盛宴;应邀赴宴的宾客;宴席

to endure [ ] [网络] 忍受;要么忍;忍耐

to excess [tu: ˈekses] na. (吸烟)过度 [网络] 过分;过量;太多

to praise [ ] [网络] 称赞;赞赏;表扬

to vouch for [ ] [网络] 拍胸脯

virtue of [ ] [网络] 有…优点

vouch for [vaʊtʃ fɔ:] v. 担保,保证; 打包票; 拍胸脯

with zest [ ] na. 热情地 [网络] 热心地

worthy of [ ] adj. 值得的 [网络] 名副其实的;配得上;值得……,配得上

zest for life [ ] 对生命的热情



单词释义末尾数字为词频顺序
zk/中考 gk/中考 ky/考研 cet4/四级 cet6/六级 ielts/雅思 toefl/托福 gre/GRE
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