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Updated: May 15, 2025
These coarse revellers into whose lips our text is put only meant by it to brave the future and defy to-morrow in the riot of their drunkenness. They show us the vulgarest, lowest form which the expectation can take, a form which I need say nothing about now. But I may just note in passing that to look forward principally as anticipating pleasure or enjoyment is a very poor and unworthy thing.
"I don't know what I am heaven help me!" Nick broke out, tossing his hat down on his little tin table with vehemence. "I'm a freak of nature and a sport of the mocking gods. Why should they go out of their way to worry me? Why should they do everything so inconsequent, so improbable, so preposterous? It's the vulgarest practical joke. There has never been anything of the sort among us; we're all Philistines to the core, with about as much esthetic sense as that hat. It's excellent soil I don't complain of it but not a soil to grow that flower. From where the devil then has the seed been dropped? I look back from generation to generation; I scour our annals without finding the least little sketching grandmother, any sign of a building or versifying or collecting or even tulip-raising ancestor. They were all as blind as bats, and none the less happy for that. I'm a wanton variation, an unaccountable monster. My dear father, rest his soul, went through life without a suspicion that there's anything in it that can't be boiled into blue-books, and became in that conviction a very distinguished person. He brought me up in the same simplicity and in the hope of the same eminence. It would have been better if I had remained so. I think it's partly your fault that I haven't," Nick went on. "At Oxford you were very bad company for me my evil genius: you opened my eyes, you communicated the poison. Since then, little by little, it has been working within me; vaguely, covertly, insensibly at first, but during the last year or two with violence, pertinacity, cruelty. I've resorted to every antidote in life; but it's no use I'm stricken. C'est Vénus toute entière
I felt a prey to the vulgarest and basest passion; better to burn that truth into my mind, and to make the brand a lifelong warning. I shall the sooner lift up my head again." He seemed to palliate his act by remembering that he wished to benefit his sisters. Neither of them the poor dead girl, and she who lived only for self-forgetfulness would have been happier at the cost of his disgrace.
Michael Scot had been in Florence; to which circumstance we are most probably indebted for this curious particular respecting his shape. The consignment of such men to hell is a mortifying instance of the great poet's participation in the vulgarest errors of his time. No: the exception is an irony! Another, no doubt, is the impulsive vehemence of the South.
The magistrate was as prejudiced as the public; he had no more idea of standing for justice and fair play than Pilate; probably, indeed, he never gave himself the trouble to think of fairness in the matter. A large salary is paid to magistrates in London, L1,500 a year, but it is rare indeed that any of them rises above the vulgarest prejudice.
But now I am afraid I must agree with you, which I was not at all prepared for." Randal bowed and answered, "No two men of our education can dispute upon the application of knowledge." "Eh? what to?" RANDAL. "Power, of course." "Power! the vulgarest application of it, or the loftiest? But you mean the loftiest?" " What do you call the loftiest, and what the vulgarest?"
The church, once interesting, has been restored with more than usual barbarity, blue slates, villa ridge-tiles, the vulgarest cheap pavement, tawdry decorations and furniture, such as are supplied to churchwardens by ecclesiastical tradesmen. But the tower is still grey, and has looked unchanged over the Axe estuary for hundreds of years.
Fling her into the vulgarest materialism of household life; hinder her from cherishing in her heart the mysterious flower of the Ideal of that heavenly perfection in which I believed, that enchanted blossom with glorious colors, and whose perfume disgusts us with reality.
A Nihilist, with Siberia or death before him, fighting against a damnable tyranny the best might sacrifice everything for that. But English Socialism! It is infused with the spirit of shopkeeping; it appeals to the vulgarest minds; it keeps one eye on personal safety, the other on the capitalist's strong-box; it is stamped commonplace, like everything originating with the English lower classes.
This decoration appeared to have paused at some distance, and in spite of intervening groups they could both look at it. "Oh that's the way they dress the vulgarest of the vulgar!" "They're coming back they'll see us!"
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