social thunderstorm, have a ground in reason for their choice.
They get little rest indeed; but restfulness is a quality for
cattle; the virtues are all active, life is alert, and it is in
repose that men prepare themselves for evil. On the other hand,
they are bruised into a knowledge of themselves and others; they
have in a high degree the fencer's pleasure in dexterity displayed
and proved; what they get they get upon life's terms, paying for it
as they go; and once the talk is launched, they are assured of
honest dealing from an adversary eager like themselves. The
aboriginal man within us, the cave-dweller, still lusty as when he
fought tooth and nail for roots and berries, scents this kind of
equal battle from afar; it is like his old primaeval days upon the
crags, a return to the sincerity of savage life from the
comfortable fictions of the civilised. And if it be delightful to
the Old Man, it is none the less profitable to his younger brother,
the conscientious gentleman I feel never quite sure of your urbane
and smiling coteries; I fear they indulge a man's vanities in
silence, suffer him to encroach, encourage him on to be an ass, and
send him forth again, not merely contemned for the moment, but
radically more contemptible than when he entered. But if I have a
flushed, blustering fellow for my opposite, bent on carrying a
point, my vanity is sure to have its ears rubbed, once at least, in
the course of the debate. He will not spare me when we differ; he
will not fear to demonstrate my folly to my face.

For many natures there is not much charm in the still, chambered
society, the circle of bland countenances, the digestive silence,
the admired remark, the flutter of affectionate approval. They
demand more atmosphere and exercise; "a gale upon their spirits,"
as our pious ancestors would phrase it; to have their wits well