The sort of men that most feel the need of hostility as a spur to exertion are, I imagine, those of superabundant vitality and somewhat sluggish temperament, like Goethe and Bismarck, both of whom declared that it was essential to them. There is also a great deal of old-fashioned personal hatred in remote and quiet places, like the mountains of North Carolina, and probably among all classes who do not much feel the stress of civilization. But to most of those who share fully in the life of the time, intense personal animosities are painful and destructive, and many fine spirits are ruined by failure to inhibit them. The kind of man most characteristic of these times, I take it, does not allow himself to be drawn into the tangle of merely personal hatred, but, cultivating a tolerance for all sorts of men, he yet maintains a sober and determined antagonism toward all tendencies or purposes that conflict with his true self, with whatever he has most intimately appropriated and identified with his character. He is always courteous, cherishes as much as possible those kindly sentiments which are not only pleasant and soothing but do much to oil the machinery of his enterprises, and by wasting no energy on futile passion is enabled to think all the more clearly and act the more inflexibly when he finds antagonism necessary. A man of the world of the modern type is hardly ever dramatic in the style of Shakespeare’s heroes. He usually expresses himself in the most economical manner possible, and if he has to threaten, for instance, knows how to do it by a movement of the lips, or the turn of a phrase in a polite note. If cruder and more violent tactics are necessary, to impress vulgar minds, he is very likely to depute this rough work to a subordinate. A foreman of track hands may have to be a loud-voiced, strong-armed, palpably aggressive person; but the president of the road is commonly quiet and mild-mannered.