Nor is it even true that there is something so trivial or ugly about the names of the things as to make them commonplace in all connexions. The word “lamp” is especially beloved by the more decorative12 and poetic13 writers; it is a symbol, and very frequently a title. It is true that if Ruskin had called his eloquent14 work “The Seven Lamp-Posts of Architecture” the effect, to a delicate ear, would not have been quite the same. But even the word “post” is in no sense impossible in poetry; it can be found with a fine military ring in phrases like “The Last Post” or “Dying at his Post.” I remember, indeed, hearing, when a small child, the line in Macaulay’s “Armada” about “with loose rein15 and bloody16 spur rode inland many a post,” and being puzzled at the picture of a pillar-box or a lamp-post displaying so much activity. But certainly it is not the mere17 sound of the word that makes it unworkable in the literature of wonder or beauty. “Omnibus” may seem at first sight a more difficult thing to swallow—if I may be allowed a somewhat gigantesque figure of speech. This, it may be said, is a Cockney and ungainly modern word, as it is certainly a Cockney and ungainly modern thing. But even this is not true. The word “omnibus” is a very noble word with a very noble meaning and even tradition. It is derived18 from an ancient and adamantine tongue which has rolled it with very authoritative19 thunders: quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus. It is a word really more human and universal than republic or democracy. A man might very consistently build a temple for all the tribes of men, a temple of the largest pattern and the loveliest design, and then call it an omnibus. It is true that the dignity of this description has really been somewhat diminished by the illogical habit of clipping the word down to the last and least important part of it. But that is only one of many modern examples in which real vulgarity is not in democracy, but rather in the loss of democracy. It is about as democratic to call an omnibus a bus as it would be to call a democrat20 a rat.
Another way of explaining the cloud of commonplace interpretation21 upon modern things is to trace it to that spirit which often calls itself science but which is more often mere repetition. It is proverbial that a child, looking out of the nursery window, regards the lamp-post as part of a fairy-tale of which the lamplighter is the fairy. That lamp-post can be to a baby all that the moon could possibly be to a lover or a poet. Now, it is perfectly22 true that there is nowadays a spirit of cheap information which imagines that it shoots beyond this shining point, when it merely tells us that there are nine hundred lamp-posts in the town, all exactly alike. It is equally true that there is a spirit of cheap science, which is equally cocksure of its conclusiveness23 when it tells us that there are so many thousand moons and suns, all much more alike than we might have been disposed to fancy. And we can say of both these calculations that there is nothing really commonplace except the mind of the calculator. The baby is much more right about the flaming lamp than the statistician who counts the posts in the street; and the lover is much more really right about the moon than the astronomer24. Here the part is certainly greater than the whole, for it is much better to be tied to one wonderful thing than to allow a mere catalogue of wonderful things to deprive you of the capacity to wonder. It is doubtless true, to a definite extent, that a certain sameness in the mechanical modern creations makes them actually less attractive than the freer recurrences25 of nature; or, in other words, that twenty lamp-posts really are much more like each other than twenty trees. Nevertheless, even this character will not cover the whole ground, for men do not cease to feel the mystery of natural things even when they reproduce themselves almost completely, as in the case of pitch darkness or a very heavy sleep. The mere fact that we have seen a lamp-post very often, and that it generally looked very much the same as before, would not of itself prevent us from appreciating its elfin fire, any more than it prevents the child.
Finally, there is a neglected side of this psychological problem which is, I think, one aspect of the mystery of the morality of war. It is not altogether an accident that, while the London lamp-post has always been mild and undistinguished, the Paris lamp-post has been more historic because it has been more horrible. It has been a yet more revolutionary substitute for the guillotine—yet more revolutionary, because it was the guillotine of the mob, as distinct even from the guillotine of the Republic. They hanged aristocrats27 upon it, including (unless my memory misleads me) that exceedingly unpleasant aristocrat26 who promulgated28 the measure of war economy known as “Let them eat grass.” Hence it happened that there has been in Paris a fanatical and flamboyant29 political newspaper actually called La Lanterne, a paper for extreme Jacobins. If there were a paper in London called the Lamp-Post, I can only imagine it as a paper for children. As for my other example, I do not know whether even the French Revolution could manage to do anything with the omnibus; but the Jacobins were quite capable of using it as a tumbril.
In short, I suspect that Cockney things have become commonplace because there has been so long lacking in them a certain savour of sacrifice and peril30, which there has been in the nursery tale, for all its innocence31, and which there has been in the Parisian street, for all its iniquity32.
The new wonder that has changed the world before our eyes is that all this crude and vulgar modern clockwork is most truly being used for a heroic end. It is most emphatically being used for the slaying33 of a dragon. It is being used, much more unquestionably than the lantern of Paris, to make an end of a tyrant34. It was a cant2 phrase in our cheaper literature of late to say that the new time will make the romance of war mechanical. Is it not more probable that it will make the mechanism35 of war romantic? As I said at the beginning, the things themselves are not repulsively36 prosaic37; it was their associations that made them so; and to-day their associations are as splendid as any that ever blazoned38 a shield or embroidered39 a banner. Much of what made the violation40 of Belgium so violent a challenge to every conscience lay unconsciously in the fact that the country which had thus become tragic41 had often been regarded as commonplace. The unpardonable sin was committed in a place of lamp-posts and omnibuses. In similar places has been prepared the just wrath42 and reparation; and a legend of it will surely linger even in the omnibus that has carried heroes to the mouth of hell, and even in the lamp-post whose lamp has been darkened against the dragon of the sky.

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1
contemplating
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深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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2
cant
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n.斜穿,黑话,猛扔 | |
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3
insignificant
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adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
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4
poignant
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adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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5
ethics
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n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
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6
pathos
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n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
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7
piety
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n.虔诚,虔敬 | |
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8
frailty
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n.脆弱;意志薄弱 | |
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9
fixed
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adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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10
beacon
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n.烽火,(警告用的)闪火灯,灯塔 | |
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11
countless
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adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
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12
decorative
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adj.装饰的,可作装饰的 | |
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13
poetic
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adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
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14
eloquent
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adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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15
rein
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n.疆绳,统治,支配;vt.以僵绳控制,统治 | |
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16
bloody
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adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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17
mere
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adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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18
derived
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vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
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19
authoritative
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adj.有权威的,可相信的;命令式的;官方的 | |
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20
democrat
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n.民主主义者,民主人士;民主党党员 | |
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21
interpretation
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n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
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22
perfectly
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adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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23
conclusiveness
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n.最后; 释疑; 确定性; 结论性 | |
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24
astronomer
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n.天文学家 | |
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25
recurrences
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n.复发,反复,重现( recurrence的名词复数 ) | |
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26
aristocrat
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n.贵族,有贵族气派的人,上层人物 | |
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27
aristocrats
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n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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28
promulgated
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v.宣扬(某事物)( promulgate的过去式和过去分词 );传播;公布;颁布(法令、新法律等) | |
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29
flamboyant
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adj.火焰般的,华丽的,炫耀的 | |
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30
peril
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n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
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31
innocence
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n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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32
iniquity
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n.邪恶;不公正 | |
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33
slaying
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杀戮。 | |
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34
tyrant
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n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
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35
mechanism
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n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
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36
repulsively
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adv.冷淡地 | |
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37
prosaic
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adj.单调的,无趣的 | |
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38
blazoned
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v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 );宣布;夸示;装饰 | |
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39
embroidered
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adj.绣花的 | |
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40
violation
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n.违反(行为),违背(行为),侵犯 | |
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41
tragic
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adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
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42
wrath
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n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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