Another appeal has been made, to a comparison with nature, in favour of communism. It is asked why we should be struggling like the carnivora, instead of peacefully browsing in amity like herbivora. But it would be hard to find a more intense example of competition than that among the cattle. Look at the skeleton of a bull, and see how every rib is broadened out into an armour plating for its vitals, each rib lapping over the other, so that no opening can be found for the point of its adversary's horn. None but those thus proof against goring have ever survived the desperate struggle of the strongest. In place of the artificial paddocks, where man has placed a single bull to lord the herd, look at the tragedy of the wild cattle, where the dispossessed chief of the Chillingham breed mopes apart in sullen anger, a Saturn dethroned and banished by the Jupiter who now leads the race. Then reflect how competition is more bitter and more intense in the bovine commune than among any individualistic carnivora. The communistic view appears to tend to fatalism. This is practically seen for instance in Tolstoi's _Peace and War_, where the gigantic movements of the French and Russian hosts are looked on as inherent in the millions of people, and not originating in the leaders. And the habit of looking to the commune as the source of action will naturally tend toward a sense of the impossibility of altering the determination of a whole people, and the powerlessness of the individual against such forces. Now nothing more surely undermines activity and initiative than a fatalistic view. It saps the whole springs of action, and destroys the spirit of advance and improvement. In this aspect therefore we again see how injurious the communistic ideal is to solid character.