In the course of ages (one would like to know how many) man has attained a remarkable degree of self-control; dire experience has forced upon him the necessity of compromise, and habit has inclined him (the individual) to prefer a quiet, orderly life.But by instinct he is still a quarrelsome creature, and he gives vent to the impulse as far as it is compatible with his reasoned interests--often, to be sure, without regard for that limit.The average man or woman is always at open discord with some one; the great majority could not live without oft-recurrent squabble.Speak in confidence with any one you like, and get him to tell you how many cases of coldness, alienation, or downright enmity, between friends and kinsfolk, his memory registers; the number will be considerable, and what a vastly greater number of everyday "misunderstandings" may be thence inferred! Verbal contention is, of course, commoner among the poor and the vulgar than in the class of well-bred people living at their ease, but I doubt whether the lower ranks of society find personal association much more difficult than the refined minority above them.High cultivation may help to self-command, but it multiplies the chances of irritative contact.In mansion, as in hovel, the strain of life is perpetually felt--between the married, between parents and children, between relatives of every degree, between employers and employed.They debate, they dispute, they wrangle, they explode--then nerves are relieved, and they are ready to begin over again.Quit the home and quarrelling is less obvious, but it goes on all about one.What proportion of the letters delivered any morning would be found to be written in displeasure, in petulance, in wrath? The postbag shrieks insults or bursts with suppressed malice.Is it not wonderful--nay, is it not the marvel of marvels--that human life has reached such a high point of public and private organization?
And gentle idealists utter their indignant wonder at the continuance of war! Why, it passes the wit of man to explain how it is that nations are ever at peace! For, if only by the rarest good fortune do individuals associate harmoniously, there would seem to be much less likelihood of mutual understanding and good-will between the peoples of alien lands.As a matter of fact, no two nations are ever friendly, in the sense of truly liking each other; with the reciprocal criticism of countries there always mingles a sentiment of animosity.The original meaning of hostis is merely stranger, and a stranger who is likewise a foreigner will only by curious exception fail to stir antipathy in the average human being.Add to this that a great number of persons in every country find their delight and their business in exasperating international disrelish, and with what vestige of common sense can one feel surprise that war is ceaselessly talked of, often enough declared.In days gone by, distance and rarity of communication assured peace between many realms.Now that every country is in proximity to every other, what need is there to elaborate explanations of the distrust, the fear, the hatred, which are a perpetual theme of journalists and statesmen? By approximation, all countries have entered the sphere of natural quarrel.That they find plenty of things to quarrel about is no cause for astonishment.A hundred years hence there will be some possibility of perceiving whether international relations are likely to obey the law which has acted with such beneficence in the life of each civilized people; whether this country and that will be content to ease their tempers with bloodless squabbling, subduing the more violent promptings for the common good.Yet I suspect that a century is a very short time to allow for even justifiable surmise of such an outcome.If by any chance newspapers ceased to exist...
Talk of war, and one gets involved in such utopian musings!
